Their Obligation
by SoothsayerOfTheVale
Summary: "Do you want to run away with me?" she whispered to him as they teetered on the edge of the abyss.


Disclaimer: None of the characters or setting belong to me as they are the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto

Warnings: References to suicide, infanticide, severe post-partum depression and adultery. There will be minor degradation of characters within the text because of these issues.

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Their Obligation

Neither could tell you when they began to take notice of the other or the shared resignation reflected in their eyes when they looked to the person they claimed to love deeply, their very image a mocking darkness beside their brightness. Even worse, they could not tell you when they began to seek the other out when the crushing thoughts and loneliness directed towards the person who laid beside them every night began to fester in the back of their mind until it poured to surface threatening to drown them and everything they worked so hard to build. It was all very intimate even without illicit touches, forbidden even though they desired a physical anchor to help them survive the tide of self-doubt, and their usage of guarded words when speaking of the life that they seek reprieve from.

But, that all began to change in an instant when she enveloped him in a crushing embrace when he darkened her doorway as her newest child wailed in the background, the third. A child that was entirely unwanted, even though neither of the parents would voice their displeasure at the arrival of yet another child that the husband would have to strain to even give an ounce of his attention. He didn't know who sobbed harder, the infant or its frantic mother as she knotted her fists in his cloak and screamed "why" over and over again causing the neighbors to look towards the house only to see the wife clinging to a man that clearly wasn't her husband. He took note of his and quickly coaxed her inside, out of the view of prying neighbors only for her to collapse on the floor, her sobs worsening as her child's grew higher in pitch.

"She won't stop crying! No matter what I do she won't stop!" she screamed, her face scrunched in anger and despair as she stared up at him as if he were her only escape from the chaos she was currently in.

He looked towards the direction of the crying and contemplated for a moment. He could easily leave and forget the whole ordeal, pretending as if nothing occurred the next time he came around for tea and an afternoon discussion while their spouses were at work. But, his friend desperately needed someone and he couldn't, didn't want to imagine, what she would do once he left. "Wait here, I'll go get the child," he said, softly ruffling her hair before making his way towards the sound that seemed to grow in fervor as he got closer.

When he peered into the bassinet, he was met with an unexpected sight as the child did not possess the looks of any of her other children. Her husband was completely absent in the child's appearance, it's cheeks unmarred by markings and its eyes a dull gray that stared blankly. It was as if the wife had reproduced all on her own as the young infant only reflected her image and mirrored her own distress.

"Come here, I won't hurt you," he cooed to the child, the tone feeling unfamiliar on his tongue unused since his own daughter's infancy. The baby squirmed slightly, its head turning towards the sound of his voice but its eyes remained unfocused as it continued to cry. "That's it, I'm taking you to your mama," he cooed, as he picked the child up. He softly inhaled the unique scent that all babies seem to possess causing a sad pang to ring in his heart, this resulted in him hurrying towards the hallway as the child continued to cry, though the tone lessened greatly in intensity.

The mother was no longer in the hallway and he began to call out, panic quickly taking him as he thought of her in that unstable state but was relieved when he heard her call from the kitchen. "In here, I was just making us some tea. I hope you don't mind that we only had green tea since I haven't been able to go the market," she called, her voice slightly hoarse and still holding that sad edge to it.

"That's fine," he said, trying to keep his tone soft, as he entered into the small kitchenette. He stopped and regarded her for a second as the baby softly whimpered in his arms, for the first time he realized the sad beauty that is his best friend's wife as she stared sadly out the small kitchen window to the snow falling softly outside. Her eyes that were once a soft lavender were now the same dull gray of her clan and infant and possessed dark rings under them. In her youth, one would call her pretty, the same as his wife that seemed to retain her youthfulness, but now aged by the trials of marriage and motherhood he found her to be hauntingly beautiful in her melancholia. The mental and physical scars of age and abuse intrigued him as he took in the appearance of her long and disheveled hair that fell to her shoulders like a cloak of twisted vines and how her flowing white nightdress looked against the intense pallor of her skin, the only source of color the crimson of her cheek and bitten lips.

"She seems calm with you," she said, mirthfully, turning to look at him with those sad eyes of hers but all he could see was the movement of her lips.

"Huh," he said, before looking down at the rooting infant in his arms. "Oh, so she does,"

"She's never like that with him. Simply cries and tries to escape, almost loathing his attempts at affection and my son only seems to encourage it," she says, bitterly, as she walks towards him.

He froze slightly as he felt her caressing his hand, only to realize pathetically that she was handing him a mug of tea while taking her daughter from his arms. He hugged himself slightly at the loss of warmth, but also to keep his free hand contained as he feared his enjoyment at the sensation of touching someone intimately after so long. "Shall we head to the table and discuss?" she said, conversationally.

She smiled softly at him and lightly gestured for him to lead the way. They sat across from each other and simply stared at one another, silently telling the other to make the first move but are both unsure of what they are actually waiting for. Are they merely here to discuss books like a small group of lonely, bored wives or is their connection deeper than that.

He pulled the book from his cloak, sneaking glances at the fatigued mother and her rooting infant as he silently flipped through the pages. His motions stopped as he saw her lowering one side of her nightdress to reveal a full breast, before the child quickly latched on to the rosy nipple and began sucking greedily. He turned his head away quickly, a slight burning at the top of his ears at the fact that she revealed her breast so easily to a guest despite the fact it was to nourish her infant. He heard her chuckle lightly at his reaction and he glances at her taken in by how utterly transformed her face is at that small joy he had unwittingly given her.

"I don't mind if you see, it's not as if I'm ashamed of it," she laughed, her eyes wistful as she watches him before looking down adoringly at her infant, softly stroking its cheek as it suckled at her breast.

He turned his head back to her, simply staring at the sight before him before replying. "I didn't want to disrespect you by staring so openly,"

She gives him another one of those sad smiles, tilting her head to the side in question. "Am I really so respectable? Or, am I like the girl in the book?"

He looks down at the book in his hands, _Madame Bovary_ , and contemplates what she is asking or is she telling him something. What has she done to wonder if she is like the foolish Emma Bovary whose head is too fully of fantasies of love and the better life. Has she begun an affair with a salacious man that has left her due to the child she holds in her arms. Or, does she simply hate her husband as she has come to find him odious and boring.

"I don't know what you asking, I've just finished the second part," he replied, hoping to change to subject of discussion but she simply grins at him.

"No, I suppose not," she said, answering her own question before elaborating. "I'm not entangled with the foolishness of fantasy, at least not entirely. I've yet to be unfaithful to my husband, though I've become almost entirely dissatisfied with him," Her eyes tell the truth with the last line, burning with unspoken regret and sorrow as she hugs her child tighter.

"I-," he began only to be cut off by the tears the silently slid down her cheeks as she stared daringly at him, he could almost hear the whisper of her unspoken thoughts in the air.

"You know, this child I'm holding," she began, softly. "I didn't want her at first, even prayed at times that she would never come because she was forced on me by a husband that was rarely here. But, he wanted her so desperately only to change his mind when it was too late. He even named her Haru, written clear weather," she began laughing bitterly at that.

"H-," he began, before she raised her hand to silence him.

"He wanted another child, thinking it would save our marriage but how could you save something that was built on such a weak foundation. Admiration turned to obsession only to become a misguided love because it was reciprocated due to obligation and guilt!" she nearly screamed, the baby roused for a moment but she quickly calmed her.

He felt his blood go cold at the words _obligation_ and _guilt_ as they have run through his mind so many times, even in the most intimate of moments, directed inwardly and outwardly as he thought of the foundation of his own marriage and how it has slowly begun to crumble with the passage of time. Intimacy dampened by prolonged closeness and growing indifference as the flames of passion and youth slowly smothered with the passage of time, his wife merely tolerating his touch before actively avoiding it. Their relationship grew out of her obligation and devotion to him and his guilt of pushing her away and attempting to hurt her in every way imaginable, it grew into a pleasant love but not one built to last a lifetime.

"Do you think you can ever forgive him? Do you think you can love your child?" he asked, but his real questions were _Do you think she can forgive me? Do you think a child would save us?_

Her eyes grew wide, filling with tears. "This child is the only thing keeping me alive. When the love of a spouse is no longer enough or no longer there, a child is the only thing you can depend on and I'm keeping this one very close even if it slowly drives me to madness," she paused. "But, I still want a love not built on false pretenses," she said so lowly it was nearly a whisper only for her ears.

He got up and she looked at him fearfully, her eyes silently begging him not to leave. He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, careful to avoid hitting Haru and inhaled to soothing scent of orange blossoms that seemed to perfume her skin and hair. The cold of her skin and the jutting of her bones terrified him as he felt as if she would break under his touch.

"Do you remember when Rodolphe and Emma were talking about running away?" she asked, causing him to pull away to look down at her. Her ghost of a smiling almost seductive as her eyes spoke of promise.

"Yes," he said, cautiously but he wanted to learn closer and feeling the intoxicating warmth of her breath on his skin as she whispered illicit promises to him.

"Do you want to run away with me?" she asked in a hushed whisper, rising until her lips were right by his ear. No one was around, but these words were still meant to be a secret. A declaration of the dark desires that she harbors.

"We shouldn't," he said, his tone sad and eyes mournful as he considered his wife and daughter. He thought of the embarrassment and ridicule their families would face if they would run off in the middle of the night with one another. "What about Haru?" he tried to reason.

Her eyes got angry, aghast at his suggestion she would or should leave her two-month old daughter. "She's going with us," she said, adamantly.

She grabs his hand, her lips grazing his knuckles and he can't bring himself to pull away as he was entranced by the new sensation, by the sight of her. "We can go somewhere where no one knows us or cares about who we are or what we are. We can start a new family where we don't have to worry about our guilt and obligation. I'm happiest with you," she coaxed, her tongue lightly grazing his skin every few words.

"What about my wife and daughter? Your husband and children?" he demanded, eyeing the child still in her arms as she backed away from him.

"Our children are grown and our spouses don't seem to care as long as they are happy," she replied, at least some of her words ringing true. "Are you happy? Truly happy or are you just convincing yourself that you are content?" she sneered, her face twisting in anguish.

"Does it matter, we have already committed ourselves to this fate," he replied, solemnly.

"Yes, yes it matters. I'm so tired of suffering because of a decision I made as a teenager, I was nineteen when I got married and only twenty when I had my first child thinking that would satisfy me because I wanted someone I admired to acknowledge me. Now, I'm nearly forty and I'm miserable and alone!" she screamed, her child awakening once more in a fitful flight of tears. She tried to calm to child, but to no avail the wailing began to worsen and the mother crumbled once more falling to the floor in the chaos of it all.

He took the child from her and it instantly began quieting in his arms, and he began to consider his own relationship with his family. A daughter he has barely seen, the only proof of the relationship that once existed between him and his wife, and did not truly witness growing up. Would he get a second chance to experience being a parent? Would his wife allow him to try so late in their lives and after so much affection between them had faded?

"I'm content enough, but I always wonder if I would make the same choice if given a second chance. What would you choose?" he whispered, stroking to silent infant's cheek as it nuzzled against him, searching for warmth in the house that suddenly felt so cold.

She stared at him with bewildered eyes, some of the color returning to her eyes and she gave him another mocking grin. "I was a stupid girl then and I'm a stupid woman now. My choice no longer matters as I'm living my choice, the only choice I could have made," she stated, her jaw set in a harsh line.

"I suppose it doesn't, but if I was given another choice I would let her go. I would want her to find someone that could truly cherish her, someone that would always be there for her and her child and that isn't me. I tried, but there was always something holding me back even when I was standing right next to her," he stated, eyes downcast.

She stared at him for a few moments in silent understanding before whispering, "She's your obligation,"

"No, I'm hers and she's my guilt,"

She extended her arms out to him as if she were a child wanting to be picked up. "Hold me for a while, just until you need to go,"

He lowered himself onto the floor beside her, careful not to jostle the infant in his arms, and she pulled her body to his wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent as he did hers. His breath shuttered slightly at her proximity, an unintelligible emotion began to grip his heart and mind as stared at the woman who was so desperately trying to form a bond with someone in her dissatisfaction with the lot she has chosen for herself and thought she had found a kindred spirit in him. He was frozen, unsure if he should embrace her or leave before he had a chance to fall to the same desire if he found himself in her eyes. He didn't dare look her in the eyes, couldn't bear to find his emotions reflected back at him.

"Please," she whispered, her voice pathetic as she knotted her hands in his clothing trying to draw him closer.

He slid his free arm up her back until he buried his hand in her hair and hugged her tightly to his side where she shifted until she is in a comfortable position able to touch him and her child that slept in the crook of his arm. He listened as her breathing became shallow and fitful as she drifted into a half sleep, unable to escape her anxieties even in unconsciousness, from which she would occasionally rouse only to reach out to touch him and her child as if to make sure they haven't disappeared while she had slumbered. What did she do when he wasn't able to come, when she was all alone in this house of hers that now seemed so cold and empty as if it would swallow him whole as the world around him slept. Fearful thoughts of her entered his mind as he imagined all the atrocities that loneliness and anguish could bring upon her as she was all alone in the world except for herself and the child she clung to so desperately even as it slowly drove her to madness with its own discomfort with the world.

Sadness began to fall over him as her noticed the world outside slowly darkening and noted that the phone hadn't rang for hours and no one else seemed to appear. He wondered where her other children were and if he husband was coming home. But, worse the knowledge that he needed to leave began to grip him and a large part of him didn't want to leave when she was in such a state. Would his wife care if he didn't return home for the night? Would she care that he held another woman while she slept, listening to her breathing and feeling the movement of her body as he hugged her to his chest. He knew she would care, even if just for the damage to her pride.

"I need to leave," he stated, softly, wanting his words to simply fade away and not break the secluded comfort that they have begun to find in one another. Would she cling to him and beg him not to leave, did he want her to? Disappointment panged in his heart as she quietly took her daughter from him and walked towards the bookshelf that he had become over familiar with as she gives him a new novel every 3rd of the month, but it wasn't the 3rd it was the 13th. Her fingers traced the battered spines of the novel for a few moments before she found the one that she wanted and pulled it from the shelf, she inhaled the scent of its aged pages before turning and making her way back to him. She falls to a crouch and pushed the novel into his hands and smiled at him as he traced the lettering of the title with his fingers.

"The Iliad," he voiced, his tone shocked and sad even to his own ears. He knew she was trying to tell him something, tell herself something. "But, we haven't finished Madame Bovary yet," he smiled, trying to put a jovial tone in his voice but he failed. He wanted her to keep smiling that beautiful, sad smile of hers at him but he failed as her head tilted towards the floor causing hair to fall into her eyes.

Her lips pulled back revealing gnashing teeth before she spat, "Does it matter, she dies and her husband is ruined," she looked to him, her eyes wide swimming with emotion. Terror, hate, sadness and worst of all forbidden desire. "That's how it always ends. The lovers are ruined and someone's left to pick up the pieces," with this he fully understood what she was trying to tell him. Understood the conflict that raged inside her that only he could seem to stop.

He was at a loss for words, too many thoughts rushing through his mind as he took in the silent message that she was trying to send. _Please stop me, before we destroy each other_. But, was that what he wanted? Did he want it to stop, pretend like what happened here today never happened and let her simply destroy herself or possibly find another that could indulge her whereas he was reserved due to guilt. He had already hurt his wife too much and more than ever wanted to seek repentance that he never quite seemed to reach no matter how many times he tried. His wife claimed to accept his forgiveness but the wounds ran too deep, otherwise they wouldn't be married as she would have been able to move on and find someone that didn't have her blood on his hands.

"I need to go, I need to go home before she worries," he fibbed, his wife never seemed to worry. At least, not like she used to before the flames of their marriage dulled to the smallest of embers.

His friend gave him another sad smile before helping him to his feet with clipped murmurs as she resigned herself to his kind rejection. This was what she wanted him to do, or so he believed, but she still seemed wounded by it and the fake smiles that she was sending to him caused his heart to ache as he watched the glassiness of unshed tears forming in her eyes. Her eyes were like a murky ocean and he felt as if he was drowning in the water as he was pulled deeper and deeper into their depths. He could feel himself reaching out for her, reaching out for the thing that would surely drown him. She was like a siren waiting to choke the life from him while whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he began enraptured with her haunting visage.

"I'll walk you to the door," these words woke him from his traitorous thoughts.

As they stood in the foyer where this whole ordeal started, he couldn't quite bring himself to leave before assuring himself that she would be alright until the next time he saw her but he was only rewarded with vague answers of when her family would return or friends would come and check on her. She simply continued to give him that fake smile and talk in a falsetto that told him that she was trying to convince him that she would be alright, but garish images of her kept playing in the back of his mind as he remembered her incensed wailing and that of her child. Silently he cursed her husband, which quickly shifted in him begging him to come home to a wife that no longer wanted him but entirely needed him.

"Promise me, promise me you'll be here next time I come," he said, his mouth moving quicker than his mind. His words were clear but his voice was desperate.

The mournful smile she gave him caused him to rush forward and hold her tightly afraid she would fade away before his very eyes. He kissed her forehead tenderly and took comfort in the feel of her skin. "Just give me some time, just a little more," he rasped, pulling her tighter to him only to cause the infant in her arms to let out a cry of discomfort. He pulled away as to not hurt the child, but his heart plummeted in his chest when he looked to the mother.

Her desolate eyes stared straight at him as she gave him another one of those fake smiles he has quickly grown to hate. "Say hello to your wife for me," and with these words she turned and disappeared down the hallway. But, before she was completely out of sight she gave him a small nod that gave him some relief as it meant she would give him time, though he wasn't sure how much.

He didn't give his wife her greeting, he never did. He simply went home and went through the mechanics of a night at home when he and his wife would exchange a few words over a meal before falling into an uncomfortable silence where they would pick at them food giving the occasional uncomfortable smile to their spouse, trying to ease the distance they both knew was there. But, they couldn't hide it in their sleep where they slept far apart hugging only themselves.

That night he laid awake, listening to the house as it shifted around him and counting the beats between breaths noticing the soft rise and fall of his wife's shoulders as she breathed and how peaceful she seemed to be in the land of slumber. He noted how different it was from the frantic breathing of his friend as she battled the demons that haunted her mind, reaching out for salvation rather than holding herself. She must hold the child so close to her chest during sleep, afraid that she would disappear if she let go and leave her all alone in that cold, dark world that she seemed to surround herself with. Would his wife do the same if she were to have a child? Would she fall victim to her doubts or would she cling tighter to him as he was there?

He thought of the child Haru, clear weather, and wondered what it would be like to once more embrace a child of his own, a child that could relight the flame that has almost gone out entirely. The hissing voice of his friend ringed in the back of his mind and told him he was a fool, a fool that wished an ill fate on the woman he wanted to love, but the image of his wife radiant once more as her belly swelled with his child pushed away the noise. They were different, his presence was felt within his household and his warmth could be felt on the sheets if his wife just reached out while her husband holed away in his office and her home felt cold and desolate.

In an instant he crossed the physical divide between him and his wife clambering on top of her and shaping her until she opened her eyes. She glared at him and became to recoil from his touch, trying to shape his hands from her shoulders but her persisted. He kissed her fiercely and whispered terms of adoration in her ear causing her to give him a quizzical look.

"It's the middle of the night," she groaned before attempting to turn away from him.

He stopped her, staring deeply in her eyes for a moment causing sweat to break out on the back of her neck as she became nervous at the uncharacteristic display. "Let's have another child,"

His heart plummets as she turns away from him, her eyes seemingly boring holes into the wall as she sits a few moments in contemplation. He watches the flexing of her jaw as she grits her teeth and picks at her fingers as if trying to find the right words to say as she mills over the fact of the matter. Didn't she desire this too? Didn't she want to try and save them?

When she turns back to him she gives him a fake smile so much like _hers_ and he wished the world around him would collapse as her honey-voiced words caressed his eyes. _Will this save us. Please let me destroy us._

* * *

I originally wasn't planning to write a story like this, but I was watching Boruto episode 15 the other night and Sasuke's words "Tell her I'm sorry for everything," instantly struck me with a feeling all too familiar that I thought I buried years ago as the thought _He's with her out of guilt_ rung out in my mind _._ I kept telling myself that I was simply interpreting the words wrong but it was still on the forefront of my mind when I awoke early in the morning from a sad dream where I was talking with my Sakura, still begging them to forgive me for the love I could never quite give. I had to start writing to get rid of the feeling, wondering what I would have become so far in the future if I didn't choose myself when, at nineteen, I was tittering on the edge of the Existential Abyss refusing to fall in and let them drown me. Sasuke and Hinata act as the double-edged sword that I found myself to be, a wife bitter and resentful of the lot she forced upon herself and a friend turned spouse still trying to repent to the person, who tried so hard to love them and understand the enigma of them, and echoes my dream for that person in his second chance.

I also gave myself a writing challenge in the fact that I wasn't allowed to use any name other than Haru within the text. This actually proved very difficult when every few lines I would be an unintentional Sakura or Hinata or felt stuck trying to make it clear which woman I was referring to. But, I persevered with terms like "friend", "wife" and "mother" coming to replace their names.

My reasoning behind the challenge was mainly to take away our preconceived notions of these characters to simply see them at a state in their life that we have not witnessed and most likely will never come. Their story is not unique, almost universal as people suffer from mental illness or wonder if they have made the right choice so far down the road when they no longer have to ability to change their choices and start anew. These are people that are teetering on the edge of the abyss.

I welcome constructive criticism as I really do want to improve as a writer and am wondering if people would like me to continue this story as I am considering turning it into a three to five-part story.


End file.
